


The Storm

by InsominiacArrest



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Character Study, Demons, M/M, Smut, handjobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-05
Updated: 2016-04-05
Packaged: 2018-05-31 11:09:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6467869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsominiacArrest/pseuds/InsominiacArrest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(AU set between episodes 4 and 5)</p><p>During a storm when Alec is affected by a hunger demon he turns to Malec for help and things get intimate</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Storm

**Author's Note:**

> heads up, I should probably watch more into the series before I write fanfic of it, but here we are ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯, sorry if anything is out of place

_Never underestimate Magnus' hedonism. Or his greed._ -Raising Hell, Episode 4

 

He wasn’t above blatant flirtation, in fact, he liked to imagine he thrived on it. Excelled. But Alec Lightwood was becoming something of an issue for him. The shy smile, the set jawline, and the look of someone taking himself far too seriously for someone his age, it begged to be broken, taken, unlocked.

It was attractive in the way precious metals are, kings jewels, peoples secrets, and Magnus wasn’t above blatant flirtation for it.

“So, Alec,” he simpered as he wandered into the grand hallway of his hideout, “enjoying yourself?”

The boy averted his gaze and Magnus caught the gleen of resentment behind his dark eyes. Alec Lightwoord was not one to be gotten.

“We’re just here for protection. You know that.” He grimly confirmed like he hadn’t smiled a day in his life. Magnus wasn’t sure if he wanted to change that, or shift it into a full blown snarl.

“Ah, yes, the storm.” He chuckles, “such a shame it should hit so suddenly, and with such accuracy,” he picks off a piece of lint from Alec’s shirt, leaning in as he did so, “and it’s a shame Shadowhunters are such,” he drawls out the words, “delicate creatures.”

Alec only shakes his head, “I wouldn’t mock us. You may always need our help in the future.” Alec grunts and his eyes flash over Magnus. He smiles coyly in return.

“Oh I’m sure.” He clasps his hands together, “and you’re help will be most welcome.”

Alec seems to catch on and he turns his head as Magnus watches his cheeks tint red. He moves to leave, Magnus sidesteps to intercept him.

“Won’t you have a drink with me?” He asks innocently.

Alec shakes his head quietly, a silence that draws Magnus in like the scent of expensive cologne, “I have to secure the parameter. Valentine is always looking for Clary.”

 

“What,” He raises his eyebrows, “you don’t trust my magic protection?”

Alec quirks something like a half smile, “I try not to, no.”

“Really? I find it good to try,” he pointedly bites his bottom lip, “a variety of things.”

Alec backs up, he wasn’t ready, “I’ll be outside.”

“This isn’t a normal storm.” Magnus trails after him, concern welling up, “you wouldn’t be here if it was.”

“It’s not looking for me.” He shrugs his arrows higher up on his shoulder, “I’ll be fine.”

 

Magnus sighs deeply and watches the back of the retreating boy, the pulse of Alec's anxiety, steadfastness, loyalty, confusion radiating off him like loose dandruff.

Magnus goes back to his room and reclines on his 17th century couch, the experience would be much more frustrating if it wasn’t so indulgent with these things. He picks out a perfect wine, and let’s the storm do its trick.

He sips slowly from a chalice, a silver one he received from the “She-wolf of France,” Isabella, a disastrous women who was far too fun at parties and far too fond of scheming.

Her spirit calmed him, like the beating heart of the thought it could be worse, he could be in a loveless marriage. He turns his head as he hears the clinking of locks and the creaking of the front doors.

“What a fool,” he murmurs to himself before standing up, glancing at himself in the mirror and taking to the hallway again.

He follows the sound of huffing to a dripping wet boy depositing his soaked jacket on a coat rack.

Alec’s eyes flit up to meet his in the dim light of the sky outside, “you’re still awake.” He observes.

Magnus graces him with a smile, “I don’t need much sleep, though,” he tilts his head, “you look in need of some dry clothes, and maybe a shower.”

 

Alec frowns and looks up, “there are demons in the clouds,” he speaks calmly though Magnus can feel him squirming underneath, like sheet metal being hammered, “they are calling out people’s names.”

 

Magnus nods, “they are famine demons. Trackers, they hunger for people in order to find them, and for one person in particular in this case.” Magnus’s eyes trail to the far room where Clary was staying.

Alec takes a deep breath in through the nose, “no...they called out other names. There was...screaming among other things.”

 

Magnus shrugs, “you may hear what you want to hear reflected in their voices.” Alec’s breath rattles out of his chest, he moves to leave, “tell me, do you hunger for anything Alec?” He makes the word slow and aching, alight with enough magic to make the other boy can feel the ache too. “Or do you want to know what I would hear?”

Alec blows air out his nose, “I’m going to go change. Keep your secrets to yourself warlock.”

Magnus raises both eyebrows, “suit yourself. Though,” he tilts a smile, “if you want to know how to get their voices out of your head after this...I’ll be in my study.”

 

He turns on his heel and retreats down the hall, he can feel the other man’s eyes following him, it burns nicely down his back and Magnus can’t help by smile to himself. Victory.

Or, that’s what he thought, up intil he remained alone in his study for four more hours. In fact, he’s almost completely put out by the time it’s 4 am. He has reread his original volume of Goethe's Faust twice in that time, a man who truly knew both greed and the devil.

He doesn't like it though, to wait, and he didn’t like even more that he gave into letting himself wait--it was hard to convince himself he was simply trying to sate an interest if he made himself linger this long.

He’s frowning into the wind and sheets of gail steadily pumping against the window pane when he hears faint breathing from the doorway.

“I was wondering when you’d come by.” He let’s the smile bleed into his tone.

“Shut up.” His voice is ragged, like he’d been yelling or crying out, Magnus raises his eyes to the ceiling, he’d like to see that. “What did they do to me?”

Magnus takes his time and turns around slowly, then raises his hands up, “nothing. My magic protected you from detection,” he states, “it was you who insisted on going outside and hearing their voices.”

Alec seems to shake, sweat seeming to soak his night-shirt and his pajama bottoms loose around his waist. Magnus wants to lick his lips and swallow the image whole.

“Why didn’t you warn me?”

 

“I tried to.” Of course, that was a half-truth, but he was by no means bound to honesty.

Alec’s shoulders raise and then he paces to the couch, he runs his hand through his hair and then paces to the opposite wall, almost hugging his arms to his body, Magnus watches him patiently.

“Is there something you want to ask me?” He ventures carefully.

Alec tears at his hair again, “I need.” He pants, “to make it stop.” He points to his ears.

 

“That’s easy.” Magnus approaches him, Alec leans on Magnus’s piano and Magnus wants to take his milk-white wrists and pin them to his sides and watch him writhe. “Just tell me what you hear. And I’ll capture them.”

 

“Capture…?”

 

Magnus smiles as he catches Alec’s attention, it was like soaking in rays of sun, “yes. Like memories. I’ll burn them away.”

 

“So?”

 

“So, I just need to know what they are.” Another half-truth, or really a lie. Magnus puts his hands up to depict a blaze of his own magic. “Tell me.”

 

Alec shudders and leans on the piano once more, “m-my parents.” He averts his eyes, “they are clapping. And looking at me, and somehow everything is...bright.” He was trembling ever so slightly and Magnus can feel himself shrink back, it was honest, too honest. "Proud."

He was so young.

Magnus nods and burns up the words out of Alec’s mouth, he quivers under the stream of power and then let’s out a sigh of relief.

“Better?”

Alec frowns and he hunches over, “yes.”

“Liar.” He sighs deeply. “I’m very old you know, it’s nothing I wouldn’t have heard before.”

Alec flinches and covers one ear, “they are loud.”

“They are demons,” Magnus shrugs, “they are made to invade and bother.”

Alec flashes his eyes up at him, “you’re part demon.”

Magnus meets his eyes and rolls his tongue across the inside of his cheek, “I do like to invade.” He lilts. "And bother I suppose."

For once Alec doesn’t shy back like he was burned, he barks a low laugh, almost too quiet to be much of anything, “you would eat your own mother for a golden ring.”

“Excuse me?”

An unreadable smile plays across the younger boy's mouth, “It’s an old saying. They told it to us when we were young, about demons.”

“Oh?” Magnus breaches Alec’s personal space, his body heat mixing with Magnus’s in the pale of the thunder drumming against the river. “It’s a very strange saying.”

“It’s old.”

Magnus smiles, “It’s accurate.”

Alec shakes his head, “no it’s not. Not really.” It was sincere again, he had that trait about him, closed until open and the open was like a sunburn. Magnus draws nearer.

“I do like shiny things though. Gold, rings, _teeth_.” He emphasizes the last part while staring at Alec’s mouth.

Alec looks at his feet, his face obviously flushing once more, it makes Magnus have to swallow very discretely.

“Tell me what the rest of the voices say.”

“I," his eyes swim around the room, "shouldn’t.”

“I can’t burn them away if you don’t.” Magnus points out.

Alec gnaws on his bottom lip, “but can you forget what you heard?”

Magnus lifts his chin up, “I have no one to tell about silly Shadowhunter personal business.”

Alec nods, his fingers trembling as they grip at his pants, “it’s moaning.” He whines, “it doesn’t stop.”

Magnus’s eyes light up, he examines Alec’s pants more carefully, Alec predictably covers his lap.

“Ah,” he makes his eyes half-lidded, “need.” Alec coughs, most likely from embarrassment.

“Need. Want. Hunger.” Alec is staring at him and Magnus’s fingers start to tingle, his hair was still damp and his eyelashes flutter like they were drapes to walls of gold. “I understand those.”

 

“Then burn them away,” Alec retorts sharply.

“I’ll need more,” Magnus replies breathlessly, “give me more. Who are the voices?”

 

“I don’t know.” His head was shaking back and forth.

“Would you rather reenact them for me then?” Magnus’s hand finally lands on Alec’s thigh and the boy immediately stiffens under the touch but doesn't pull away, “relax.” He tries to soothe, “I can take care of you. You’ll find I can be quiet” he licks his lips, “considerate.”

Alec trembles and his eyes brush over Magnus, light and darting back and forth, like a cracked open piece of glass reflecting the lightening storm.

“I-I, it’s Jace’s voice. He’s moaning.” He whimpers and turns his face away, “I’m so sorry. I'm so sorry.”

“Sshh, shh,” he comforts him and pet's his hair, "it's okay."

"I'm disgusting." He divulges as he covers his lap more systematically.

"Good." Magnus places his lips softly on top of Alec’s, it’s almost too intimate in the way it made his heart thump and Alec kissed back so gently, like he wanted to press daisy’s to his mouth. It was sweet.

Magnus puts a hand up to his temple and slowly, slowly, burns away the noise in Alec's head.

“They are still there.” Alec mutters with his eyes closed.

“Need is a powerful thing.” Magnus replies lowly and moves his hand farther up his thigh.

“Heh,” Alec let’s out a throaty laugh and gestures weakly around, “and I suppose you know about that. Someone who has all this.”

Magnis leans his face into Alec’s collarbone and breathes into it, the other boy shivers, “Haven’t you heard? They call me the greediest man in Brooklyn.”

“How so?” It was a whisper, Magnus draws his head up and kisses him firmly on the lips again, this time rough and harsh, he wanted him to feel it through his fingertips. Tear through him and crack his little human lips in half.

Alec kisses back, just as harsh and nipping, licking, consuming his warmth up and letting Magnus lean into him, push him up against the piano and wrap his arms around his neck. He feels Alec's hard length pressed up against his hip as he draws him closer.

“Can I help you?” He lilts into Alec’s ear, Alec nods, this time readily and openly.

Magnus dips his hand into Alec’s waistband and takes a hold of his shaft, he immediately groans out loud and Magnus can’t stop himself from grinning like a fool.

He slowly works the other boy up and down, relishing every sound and the little thrusts from his hips he was obviously trying to control.

“You know all that self restraint will give you wrinkles.” He observes wryly as he watches Alec dig his own nails into his legs to stop himself from reacting too heavily to Magnus's touch.

Alec just tosses his head back and moans as Magnus drags his thumb over his slit. The precum bleeds over his fingers and Magnus feels his own body react. He quivers, he himself usually took awhile to get fired up.

He doesn’t like that.

He starts to pump Alec more firmly, teasing the shaft and rubbing the head of his cock expertly. He felt painfully hard already and it wasn't soon before Alec came with a little breathy cry.

His eyes are open like he’s facing God and his head tossed back as his mouth opened and neck strained with a pulsing vein through it, Magnus can’t help but lick the exposed skin and milk him through the experience with deliberate pumps.

Alec grows oddly quiet at the end, like he’s butter warmed onto bread and slipping away.

“Are you falling asleep on me?” Magnus asks dryly as he finishes the other boy up and stands up to clean his hand off.

Alec shakes and tries to prop himself back up on the piano bench, "no." Magnus watches Alec stare at his hands, “Magnus." He seems to come back to himself and wobbles to his feet as he readjusts his pants, "you can’t tell anyone about this.”

Magnus shrugs, “who would I tell?”

“I’m serious,” he was clawing at the top of his hand as he itched them.

“Don’t worry,” he lifts his hand and his magic glimmers “It's burned all away.”

The raindrops beat against the window pain and clouds churn like a boiling pot outside and the only sound is their heavy breathing and the steady rumble of the storm.

Magnus turns and doesn’t watch as Alec leaves. Magnus waits goes and stares at his trinkets, cleans them and  waits for himself to be sated, curiosity diminished. He got the boys thoughts, his lips, his words, his fears, his body and yet...Magnus tosses himself on his couch and looks out the window.

Somehow he hopes it will rain again for the rest of the week.


End file.
